


Not Fic #2: Premonititons and Retrocognition.

by CescaLR



Series: My Not-fics: A Collection Of My Rambly, Lazy Writings. That Are Sort-Of Fics, But Not. [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Dreams and Nightmares, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Platonic Soulmates, Premonitions, Prophetic Dreams, Retrocognition, Romantic Soulmates, Unhealthy Relationships, alternate universe - minor canon divergence, etc - Freeform, it happened in canon so its here but i don't have to like it, just warnings for Pydia all around tbh, like Matt's stalking, okay so canon warnings in general, regarding; again; Pydia, warning for canon-typical Pydia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-01-19 10:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12408636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CescaLR/pseuds/CescaLR
Summary: So. Consider this:In the universe this story takes place in, people have soulmates. Platonic, romantic, sexual.Also the soul bonds of mortal enemies, but that's a little different and far, /far/ more wildly complicated.So yes. You have soul/mates/.When you meet your soul mate, you start getting dreams.They're not nice dreams.





	1. Premonitions.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning, again, for canon-typical Peter/Lydia. Unfortunately.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you meet your soulmates, you start getting dreams. 
> 
> They're not nice dreams.   
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> Premonitions. Retrocognition. Dreams that aren't dreams. 
> 
> All part of the soulmate deal. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Romantic and Sexual soulmates, of course, don't come into effect until sixteen, which is the age of consent in my country. Therefore, I don't consider this underage in that sense, since soulmates are /always/, at least in this au, within a year or so of each other age-wise.  
Of course, since this follows canon pretty strictly, I do have to address the Pydia (*grimaces*) that's pretty inevitable. Not. Soulmate. and obviously one-sided, nothing worse than canon which was already pretty bad, so the Pydia is why I tagged underage. The warnings are pretty bad for this, not gonna lie, but that's because the whole Pydia situation was fucked up as all shit in canon, so it's pretty much just me actually handling that rather than brushing it aside which makes things very painful.

Though apparently, the Pydia situation was suitable for 14 and up year olds, so what do I know.

The fic stays as Teen rated for the reason that the show is teen rated, and that's the age rating I try to make all my teen wolf fics because I like to keep things show-level on the rating scale.

Anyway:

* * *

 When you meet your soulmates, you start getting dreams. 

They're not  _nice_ dreams. 

* * *

Stiles Stilinksi meets his first soulmate at an early age. The bond isn't platonic, and it's not that of mortal enemies, so it isn't solidified. Not properly.

But they're still soul mates. And so Stiles still gets the dreams, but they're vague and nonsensical and he forgets most of them before he wakes up, scared beyond belief, covered in a cold sweat caused by sheer  _fear._

Because the dreams are premonitions, of a kind. And despite this, in this universe, you can do nothing to change the future. 

But the dreams aren't only premonitions. 

Stiles Stilinski met his first soulmate, Theo Raeken, when he was young. Before Lydia, a platonic bond, before Scott, a platonic bond (that's not quite sure that's what it wants to be), before Malia. 

He meets him, and then, of course, he loses him. 

When Stiles wakes up in a cold sweat, sitting straight upright in his bed, a few days after Theo skipped town - 

Stiles doesn't feel fear. He feels cold. Numb. 

Vindicated. Pleased. 

Shaking, because from what Stiles knows - has known, always known for as long as he's known the other boy - Theo's future isn't  _happy._

Premonitions. Retrocognition. Dreams that aren't dreams. 

All part of the soulmate deal. 

Stiles lies back down, still shaking. 

(He doesn't get any sleep that night.)

* * *

Stiles meets Lydia in the third grade. 

She's smart. Beautiful. Pretty damn awesome. 

Not his soulmate. In a non-platonic way. 

She ignores him completely. 

If soulmates weren't a thing, Stiles would think he's in love. As it is, they are, and so Stiles latches onto his first platonic bond (well, as a kid that's what he thinks he had with Theo, so in his eyes, it's his second. Oh, to be young and naive.) with everything he has. 

(He needs a distraction. From - his mother's illness. From - everything.) 

Lydia tolerates it, of course. She's not so cruel and callous as to mistreat her  _soulmate,_ of the non-romantic (or the other one her mom won't tell her about yet) variety, and so lets him sit on the same table as them, the popular crowd. Lets him drag that other boy, Theo, over to them, lets the new kid Scott stay regardless of his shyness and his asthma and general lack of intelligence. 

(Lydia was a judgemental child. If she'd paid any attention to Scott - looked at him,  _met him,_ properly, a similar thing as what happened with Stiles and Theo would perhaps have happened with her, though in a far less... volatile manner. She'd have also realised he wasn't unintelligent, but again - Lydia was a judgemental child. That can't be avoided.)

(As it stands, she's never met Scott. Not at this point, and she won't - not properly - until sophomore year. The Soulmate bond is pretty particular about how you have to meet the other to consider it 'met', in all honesty. Kind of annoyingly flaky, in Lydia's opinion, but she supposes that's how it is. Not very logical, but then again - the whole magic thing can't really be all that logical.) 

So yes. 

The dreams start for them, too. 

... for Lydia, it's all the more terrifying and all the more vague. 

(That'll be the banshee in her.) 

(Her dreams won't work properly until it's activated. And then...

Well. Banshees predict death. What else would her dreams do?)

For Stiles, the Dreams leave him with a wider range of emotions than  _fear._

Lydia doesn't really have any bad memories - not yet. None of Stiles' Dreams regarding the 'strawberry blonde' (he'll let her live in denial) will really be Retrocognition until her parents start fighting, and then after that, he'll get some Retrocognition, but he'll know what it's about and be ready for it. Since he's experiencing most of it all right alongside her.

(It... doesn't hurt as badly as the dreams about Theo did. Do. Just because the boy left his life doesn't mean Stiles won't have the dreams anymore.)

(On the flipside - living with the beings he does... Theo isn't able to have the dreams. The wavelengths interfere.) 

Once sophomore year hits, Stiles' dreams regarding Lydia will get a lot more harrowing and a lot more violent. 

He'll wake up feeling angry, on top of whatever emotion the Dream leaves him with. 

(But then, Stiles will end up no stranger to anger moving on from that point. So that will be that and there's no changing it, because the future can't be altered, and there's nothing that can be done for the past.) 

* * *

Stiles meets his second platonic soulmate (with a few question marks following that statement) in the fourth grade. 

Scott McCall. Asthmatic. Shy. Kind. 

Stiles likes him well enough. Theo makes up some story about being asthmatic - what the heck, dude? - and starts spending an abundant amount of time with the other boy.

Stiles starts liking him less. 

Theo tells him Scott's a platonic bond of his, just like with Stiles and Scott, and Lydia and Stiles, and Stiles seeks the glint in his eyes that proves the other boy isn't lying. 

He doesn't find it. 

* * *

Stiles starts cozying up with Scott more after Jackson nicks his Adderall and Scott tells a teacher. 

I mean, Stiles totally punched the jackass, but the gesture was appreciated, even if it meant they had to spend one-on-one time in detention together. 

(Stupid, mean, annoying Jackson, with his smug, stupid, pretty face. 

Stiles hates him. With a passion. Really.)

(Thank god they're not soulmates of any kind. Stiles thinks he might throw up at the thought of that being the case.)

So anyway. Stiles had already been getting the dreams, and so had Scott.

Stiles is starting to think he's a bad luck charm. The majority emotion in his soulmates' futures is  _fear_ and the feeling  _pain._

Then again, soulmates only get the bad bits. They're not dreams, really - more nightmares. But, well, that's what it's polite to call them. 

Stiles isn't _polite_. 

* * *

_Soulmate bonds don't always work out as planned._

* * *

In Stiles' sophomore year, a new girl comes to town. Her name's Allison. 

She's pretty, seems sweet enough. 

Scott lends her a pen and they're soul mates. Lydia declares her a new '... _friend,'_ and they're soulmates too. 

Lydia and Jackson never dated. Lydia isn't one to date someone who isn't meant for her, and Jackson's rude to her soulmate and his soulmate anyway, so that's that, in the end. 

Jackson is, surprising, also not one to date - seriously - outside of his soulmate circle. He doesn't really... have one, not in the way Stiles or Scott or Lydia do, and Stiles thinks he reeks of jealousy sometimes. 

Tiny, _teeny_ little problem. 

Scott got bit when Stiles dragged him out to the woods the other night. 

Stiles is pretty sure his friend's a werewolf. 

Stiles drags Lydia into the mess, because Scott is more likely to listen to her, and so, Allison follows. 

The teensy little problem shows its face when Scott profiles Allison's dad as a werewolf hunter.

From that point on, Stiles thinks, things devolved into a pretty massive mess. 

* * *

Scott was bitten by one Peter Hale. It looks as if they've got the bond of kind  _mortal enemies,_ and Stiles is vehemently against his bro having  _any_ kind of enemy because he's just too  _nice_ to ever have to get into a fight to the death. 

Stiles, on the other hand... 

They're in a car park. Allison and Lydia and Scott are elsewhere, fighting the Argent Kate, or maybe Allison is trying to convince her dad to understand in case Stiles' attempt earlier failed, and stiles is in a car park. 

With the alpha. After being kidnapped. In order to hack into a computer. 

Stiles wanted Scott  _safe._ But he and Lydia were friends, too, soul-freaking-mates, and Stiles was fond enough of Allison to not be pleased with Peter offering to avoid the murder of one teen but keep the others on his to-do-list. 

Stiles looks back over at Peter. 

"I can't make you," Peter says. "But think. What's best for Scott, for Lydia. I'll even avoid harming the girl - Allison - if that will sway you. Besides," He pauses, looks over to Stiles, and stiles will  _not_ look away, will  _not_ be a coward - "She's only a child. An Argent, yes, but perhaps she can be redeemed yet." 

Stiles wants to say  _yes, she's an Argent, but she's never personally done anything wrong -_ but he's not suicidal. Nor is he stupid. 

Nobodies forcing his hand. Stiles doesn't have to work with the Alpha. Doesn't have to help his soulmate's mortal enemy. 

But this is the only assurance he's got that Peter will hold back. Won't go straight for the kill.

(It might give enough time to incapacitate him. After that... well. Stiles knows Scott isn't capable of murder, but Scott needs to figure that out for himself.) 

Stiles turned back to the computer, typed in the username and password. 

"... I don't even know what that says." Peter admits, staring at Stiles' fingers as if he'd been trying to memorize the pattern he'd made across the keyboard. 

"Scallidia," Stiles said. "Username and password. It's incredibly sappy - the combination of their names; Scott, Allison, Lydia." 

Stiles' mouth quirked up on one side in amusement as Peter stared at the screen, expression deadpan and unimpressed. "Still want him on your side?" Stiles questioned, eyebrow raised and got a  _look_ in return. 

Stiles stood up properly, stopped leaning against the car hood and stepped backward. "All yours." He said, and knew he should feel a little guilty at basically serving the Argents (and, now that he thinks about it, Derek. Whoops.) upon a silver (haha. Punny.) platter for the angry adult, but, well.

He doesn't. Scott, Lydia, Allison. 

They... well, they  _matter._ Stiles doesn't give a damn about the Argents, about Derek, and - yes, okay, he feels bad about not remembering to get a safety clause for Allison's dad but still. 

Still.

_(Still.)_

* * *

Stiles wasn't really a sappy kinda guy. His reasoning for researching soulmates wasn't because he was intrigued by the romantic notion - because Stiles knows full well how unromantic it can be - it was instead because he was a curious kinda guy, and wanted to know all he could about it.

Because Stiles never wanted to be blindsided by the bonds he had or to confuse a set for another. 

Stiles was  _really fucking glad_ he'd done that. 

Otherwise, he wouldn't have known about the whole doppelganger-bond thing.

Not that Stiles wasn't internally freaking out about the whole 'having a doppelganger bond thing with  _Peter Hale, of all people to have it with'_ or even the fact that it was super, insanely rare to even be in the same - fucking, massive mall or stadium or  _whatever_ vaguely nearby your soul-doppelganger-whatever. 

But he was just glad it wasn't anything else that deemed he had to at least get along with his  _literal best friend soulmate person's mortal enemy_ but the problem is...

It... well...

It  _kinda, maybe, **perhaps...**_

_Does mean he'll get along pretty well with his soulmate's mortal enemy._

Stiles hates his life.  

* * *

I should probably explain the bonds. But that sounds like spoilers.

I'll give a very basic overview, as a compromise:

So; you have platonic of varying degrees of platonic-ness. You have romantic, of varying degrees of romantic-ness, and then the sexual ones of varying degrees too. 

You also have mortal enemy bonds, doppelganger bonds, the bonds between perfect opposites, the bonds between non/identical twins, the bonds between family, blood or not. 

Soulmate bonds are everywhere. There's a bond for every type of relationship.  

Not every bond signifies a healthy pair or group of people. Now  _that..._ is significant. 

* * *

_Let's backtrack a little._

* * *

Stiles meets (who he later finds out to be his soul's doppelganger,  _what the fuck)_ Peter Hale when Derek sends him into the hospital, alone, to check on the man and see if he isn't the Alpha. 

Thinking about it, that was pretty fucking stupid. Even if they weren't certain, he shouldn't have gone in alone. 

"You must be Stiles," The older man says. 

"Oh my god, I'm gonna die." Stiles doesn't respond, more panics, but then Derek shows up, throws him aside -  _ow,_ fuck you too,  _asshole -_ and fights his uncle. 

Peter's an Alpha though. The fight doesn't go very well for Derek, is all Stiles is gonna say. 

(... who is he kidding. There's a  _lot_ of probably-not-antagonistic ribbing in Derek's future for that. Even if he'd had no chance, Stiles isn't going to miss the opportunity.)

(...Stiles never said Derek had no reason to dislike him  _now._ If Stiles was going to be disliked, it'll be because he deserves it, not because he's a human mucking about in the supernatural world, thank you very much.) 

* * *

Finding out Derek bit Jackson was just another reason on his 'why Stiles thinks Derek is not a competent choice in Alpha' list. 

Along with having a) lied about the cure and b) being a complete unhelpful jerk at the worst of times and needlessly confrontational at the best. 

Stiles is certain the list will just get longer as time goes on. 

So. Anyway. 

Kate is dead. Head torn straight from her body; there's no coming back from  _that,_ Stiles is pretty sure. 

Peter's dead, too. Stiles... didn't sleep well that night. You know, since he'd helped kill the guy, and all. 

(But it had looked like he'd broken his promise. And Stiles doesn't deal with broken promises very well.)

Or at all. He wasn't exactly looking forward to reliving  _his doppelganger's horrible life of death and evil,_ is the problem here. 

The death of a soulmate or bond isn't pleasant for the bonded/mated. The first time you sleep after their death, their whole life plays out in your brain in excruciating detail on the bad parts and annoyingly vague detail in the nice ones. And then you experience their death.

From their perspective.

Like Stiles said; he's not looking forward to it. But it's not like he can tell anyone, so there's no-one to complain to. 

* * *

Stiles wakes screaming. 

His dad isn't home. At work; an overnight shift. Stiles manages to turn over, bury his face in his pillows to muffle the sound. 

_Dark. Cold. An almost green tint to the room; the lighting is minimal - old._

_He's on a bed. Sort of. Surgical equipment lying around._

_There's a heart in a clear container, sitting in some kind of liquid._

_He remembers removing that heart from the girl who'd had it first._

_His sister._

Stiles wants to vomit. It's not the first time, and it won't be the last. 

(Stiles is just glad the Dreams want to revisit old horrors and not Uncle Creeper's death. It's... Stiles knows how to deal with this, anyway. 

He hasn't seen anything  _that_ bad yet, anyway. Not the stuff that he remembers.) 

Stiles will usually forget the bad stuff when he wakes, and this time is no different, but the implications are bad enough. Getting Premonitions regarding Theo was rare, these days - like the signal was fuzzy or the frequency was off, or something, and so Retrocognition of events that have already passed by tends to happen more. 

Stiles thinks wherever the teen is, is interfering with the magic - but he can't be _sure._  

Stiles  _hates_ not being able to be sure.

(He's never told anyone about Theo's situation. Stiles honestly doesn't want to believe it himself, except for the fact that he used to see it nearly every night until his closer bonds had bad enough memories and futures that the Dreams got interested in them again.)

(The point is - Stiles has never said anything, because, despite everything, nobody would believe him.

Nobody ever does.)

* * *

There's this thing, with soulmates.

It makes interpersonal relationships a hell of a lot easier to work out. 

But it also confuses and muddles the water a fuck tonne, too. 

Apparently, the soul bond decides to kick in while Allison is stabbing Isaac with her ring daggers, which Stiles finds hilariously ironic but nobody else seems to, ~~(except maybe Peter but, for obvious reasons, Stiles doesn't like to think about that)~~ but regardless of that the bond kicks in and the problems start when a) Scott and Isaac have a very strong and  _maybe_ mildly romantic bond but nothing else and b) Lydia... no bonds for Isaac and Lydia. Unrequited soulbonds aren't really a thing, although unrequited attraction is, however people tend not to pay attention to that considering. 

But anyway. That's a thing that's happening. 

Stiles - well. He's still finding this kind of absurdly hilarious. In a way. Soulmates are supposed to make things easier, not harder, for heaven's sake.

* * *

Lydia has her reasons for not dating outside of her soulmate bonds, and -

It's _ignored._

She's with Allison, Scott - she turns the teen down, not-so-gently but he's -

_Persistent._

Lydia isn't a fan of Persistent. 

When the teen goes - a junior, she thinks - Lydia realises that nobody lives  _behind_ her house. 

It's just the preserve out there. 

* * *

_T_ _he_ _bite of an alpha and the bond it creates is just as strong as those of the soul._

Lydia isn't the only one to see Peter.

* * *

Allison is off sick, and Scott has detention, so Stiles is the only one to walk up to Lydia. 

"Hey," She said, and he nodded to her, to the guy she was speaking with. 

"Stiles," He greeted back, and Stiles nodded. 

"Pete." He said, and the other teen smirked, before turning his attention back to Lydia. 

"Here." He said to her. "As an apology for my actions the other night."

"Your actions were to try and proposition me with a flower," Lydia said, pointedly. "Giving me another flower isn't going to work as an apology."

Pete shrugged. 

Lydia pocketed the flower. 

"I should be getting home." He said. "Laura's cousin-sitting and she's probably going out of her mind with boredom."

Stiles nodded goodbye, moved to stand where he'd been standing. 

"Thanks for the flower," Lydia said. "Useful if a werewolf thinks I'd be a nice snack at some point."

"No problem," Stiles smiles, "Anything for a friend."

* * *

Things get... a little - 

_Complicated/_

* * *

 


	2. Retrocognition.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world was burning, and there was a white house, pristine and whole in the middle of the fire, the smell of gasoline and burning flesh strong in the smoke-filled air.  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~  
> Stiles is getting sick and tired of having soul-bonds with people who have shit lives. Really, really fucking tired.

_The forest was on fire._

The world was **burning,** and there was a white house, _pristine_ and _whole_  right in the middle of the fire, the smell of gasoline and burning flesh strong in the smoke-filled air. 

Lydia could hear screams. 

_She watched as the world burned, and saw the night sky glow orange with heat._

**_She watched the world burn. Don't you see, Lydia? She ruined my life, our lives - her and her hunter ways. She deserved her fate._ **

Lydia listened to the screams on the airwaves and felt a scratching in her throat.

* * *

_Lydia awoke to herself biting down on her pillow, her throat sore. The pain faded, as she waited, and the urge to scream went away._

She's beginning to hate these soul-mate dreams. Lydia thinks that might've been Stiles', but then she knows for a fact he's never been in a burning building.

Lydia doesn't know what it was. She turns over and checks the time. 

 _2:04_ _a.m._

Lydia rolls back over and returns to a restless sleep.

She doesn't remember her dreams come morning.

(For one, I'm glad of that. No-one should have to go through that mental torment, and she's already going to have enough as it is. There's no reason to add to the fire.)

* * *

Lydia was right about one thing, though.

She'd been watching Stiles' dream. 

You see, doppelganger bonds can manifest in a variety of ways, as can soul bonds, even if those are more limited to dreams and nightmares and are one-hundred percent based on your supernatural status. 

But Doppelganger bonds are - 

Different. 

Stiles isn't lucky, though. It acts as if this bond was a normal one, for the most part, so he gets the dreams. 

But, for lack of a better way of phrasing this, Peter's soul  _speaks_ to his, with the familiarity of a long-lost twin. 

For this reason - and, honestly, a lot of others - Stiles is getting sick and tired of having soul-bonds with people who have shit lives. Really, really fucking tired. Case in point:

He's in a house. The Hale house. It seems - normal enough. The family's gathered; a special occasion, one Stiles - no, Peter - has forgotten in the intervening years. 

Funny how memory deteriorates when you're paralyzed and reliving the one night over and over and over and over and -  _ahem._

Funny how memory deteriorates over six years when you've no reminders of the past. To incoherent to try and keep it all in your head. Instead, it floats away, drains out, like your brain is a sieve and the memories are small enough to fit through the cracks.

But not all of them. Some memories are too much to ever forget. 

_At least, as far as my brain cares. But for all our similarities, Stiles, your brain prefers to forget._

_To suppress, if it can't lose something. In your shoes, however, I think my head would have done something similar. So maybe we're the same there, too._

Regardless of all of that - Stiles focuses in on the memory with a kind of single-mindedness he doesn't possess because  _Stiles_ doesn't know what's about to happen.

But Peter does. 

_There's a strange smell in the air. Stiles can't place it - the sense too strong and overwhelming for him to decipher, too used to a lower sensitivity regarding scent -_

**_Gasoline._ **

It's too late, once Talia and he simultaneously notice. Too late to save them all.

_Peter goes down, down, down, down into the deep, dark basement tunnels, tries to help the children get out that way but - no, no, nonono, the tunnels are blocked - and that **smell, what did you do Derek, whatdidyoudo----**_

_Cora, get the children out - it **burnsburnshotfirewe'reallgoingtodieiknewthiswouldhappen (something like this what does it matter)** but get them  **out** \- Derek, Laura - where are you  **don'tleaveushere ---**_

_Get them out the window. Cora, nice, **favourite,** you go - go first, get out of here,  **run ---**_

It's too late for the rest of them. Stiles can see that even if Peter's soul is lost in the past. 

Stiles is almost lost in the past, too. It's taking all his willpower not to think along the same lines as the other soul because he's not Peter, this isn't his past. 

_it could have been._

No. It couldn't.

_you really don't know anything about doppelganger souls, do you?_

**_I don't care, to be really honest with you._ **

_Then burn with me._

Something  _pulled - **yanked** on Stiles'  **soul,** and he couldn't - willpower can't overcome a physical attack on the soul, on the invoking of a bond ---_

Stiles fell into the memory.

**_He fell, and he burned._ **

* * *

Stiles woke, abrupt, eyes flashing open in a heartbeat and he swung his legs over the side of his bed, grabbed the nearest object and  _chucked_ it, felt satisfied at the smashing of the thing on his window, felt vindicated at the minor cracks left behind in the glass.

Stiles  _hates_ his dreams. It's a controversial opinion, but he  _hates_ having bonds,  _hates,_ _vehemently,_ the existence of  _soulmates._

He  _hates it._ Stiles has never felt this strongly in this way before, and he's  _shaking._

Stiles spins, gets dressed haphazardly, and slams every door behind himself on his way out, ignoring his dad who'd come to see what the noise was, ignoring him as he got in his jeep, ignoring him all the way down the street. 

Stiles shifted gear and drove in the direction of the preserve. 

Peter isn't dead. Not yet. Or Stiles wouldn't be having conversations with his soul in Peter's memory, and Stiles - 

Stiles wants that to  _stop._ Even if he has to finish the job  _himself._

_**(His hands are still shaking. Stiles hides it by tapping a rhythm on the wheel, makes it look deliberate.**  
_

_**It's not.)** _

* * *

Scott wakes up covered in a cold sweat and a shout of anguish threatening to break forth.

Scott bites down on his own tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and waits it out until its gone. 

_Stiles isn't the only one who hates his dreams._

Allison is destined to die. Scott's known this since the day he met her, and he'll know it until it happens. 

Because that's how it is. In the universe he lives in, you can't change the future, and there's nothing you can do for the past. Horrible things have happened when someone tried to prevent their soulmate/s' death/s, and Scott knows that.

He hates it, but he knows it - and though Stiles has been resigned to it all for much longer than Scott, Scott's starting to see where Stiles'  _anger_ comes from. 

Because there's nothing you can do. Noah couldn't cure Claudia, Stiles couldn't stop Theo (because Scott's not stupid, alright, and he thinks he understands those two better than they ever did) and Scott's not going to be able to save Allison. Nor is Isaac, or Lydia, or Allison herself. 

Because fate decreed she die young. And there's nothing that can be done to change that, and Scott is fully, truly, horribly aware of why Stiles looks so - 

There's nothing Scott can do for Stiles, either. Because after a point, Stiles stops having a future. H doesn't die, he just - 

_Stops._

And that scares Scott more than the certainty of death ever could. 

(Scott thinks he could, perhaps, eventually, move on from Allison's death. 

But Scott's not sure whether he could tell you what a world without Stiles would be like, and he's not sure what that means, but he knows -

Well. He knows how he  _won't_ deal.

He won't deal well.)

* * *

Lydia sees the junior again, as she's sitting in her car, about to make her way home from that disaster of a lacrosse game. 

Stiles had been nice, earlier. She'd cried and hell,  _he'd_ cried enough around her for them to be comfortable with it, and Lydia confessed her recent dreams of Allison's death.

But then Stiles had had to go - had to get Gerard's bestiary, and she was alone. 

Again. 

"That sounds rough," He says sympathetically, and Lydia looks over to the junior, blinks rapidly to hide her tears. 

"Well," She said, bravado in its strongest form, "It's fate. There's nothing that can be done."

"It's okay to cry, you know." The junior - what had Stiles called him... Pete? - "For the record, I think you look really beautiful when you cry."

Lydia swallowed, and carefully wiped her eyes, looking away from the other. "Thank you," She said politely, and felt that she didn't feel - 

upset. Annoyed. Uncomfortable.

Lydia  _should_ feel that. She's not interested, she's made that  _very clear,_ but - 

Here he is. Again. 

Ignoring her - 

Wishes. 

He smiled at her, Lydia sees this in the car mirror. Peter glanced down - at a phone she hadn't noticed until then - and said; "I'm sorry, but I've gotta go. Talia's going to wonder where her little brother is if I don't."

Lydia turns, and the other's gone. 

That was very nice of Stiles. You wouldn't think it, but he can be reassuring when he needs to be, comforting when it's warranted. 

Lydia already  _knows_ she's pretty, but it's still nice to be complimented. After all, she's seen some truly  _awful_ crying faces. 

* * *

In this universe, Jackson never dated anyone. He had a friend in Danny, sure, but that was it. 

There was no Lydia for Jackson, no-one to love him still, despite everything. 

That night, there's nothing. No reason for his rebirth. 

Nothing to bring him back. 

Derek slams his hand into Jackson's chest cavity, rips the boy's heart out. 

Jackson dies that night. 

_(In this universe, Ethan is as much Danny's soulmate as he's Jackson's. As it stands, nobody will ever know that._

_You have to have met your soulmate before their death to get the Dreams - to experience their death._

_Nobody feels the death of potential. It's quiet, and unassuming, and ultimately, horribly sad._

_And still. Nobody will ever know what could have been.)_

* * *

Jackson's funeral is a small one. He has the one friend, after all, and most people aren't sad about his death once it comes to light that he was the person who did the killing. You couldn't miss him on the CCTV footage, or at least what was there that made sense.

Matt is still the mastermind, of course. But he drowned in a river, and people think he  _regretted_ what he did.

Matt didn't. But, as is always the case, things turn out the way you don't want them to. 

The point is that people wanted an understandable scapegoat. Mind control and monsters are out of their lives, and they want no part in it, so the majority of beacon hills accept the narrative that Matt and Jackson worked together on the murders, and sleep relatively soundly in their beds. 

Danny does not. He lost a friend, a platonic soul mate, and you know what that means. 

Danny dreams of Jackson's life. Jackson's Death.  _Twice._

Because Jackson died more than once, and you experience their whole lives up to each death if your soulmate dies multiple times.

Danny dreams, and dreams. 

It's unlikely he'll ever wake  _not_ screaming. 

* * *

Despite soul bonds not being able to be unrequited, Matt is still Matt.

Because someone like that - he's the kind of person that can convince himself his unrequited lust is an unrealised romantic (and sexual - because, again, Matt never liked Allison as a person. He liked the idea of her as a possession that he could  _own,_ and  _have,_ in  _all ways-)_ soul bond. 

Because Matt is still Matt. A stalker is a stalker; the existence of soul bonds doesn't eradicate the scum of this world. 

And the world - this world, is circular. Matt was always destined to drown. And he did, as he does in any universe, whether at that party or the hands of Gerard (or, in darker times, the hands of Allison, or any other girl he  _wanted)_ Matt  _drowned._

Because fate cannot be changed. The future is set in stone, and there is nothing that can be done for the past. 

That is a rule, here. It is a rule that cannot be broken, because not all rules can be, or should be.

With this one, in particular, you shouldn't even try.

As I've said before, there can be  _dire_ consequences. 

* * *

Lydia knocks Derek out with wolfsbane, though this time Stiles wasn't left at the party. 

He ties Derek up and is the one to carry him (with a strange strength he normally doesn't possess) to the Hale house.

Lydia pauses at the entrance, looks at the recently shifted floorboards. 

Peter  _was_ dead; Stiles had checked. How this was happening, he didn't know, and he's not currently aware enough to guess. 

(Peter knows a lot about soulbonds. It's easy, to twist and tug and coerce as a little voice in one's ear, in one's  _soul,_ to make another do what's needed, what's  _necessary,_ even beyond the grave.)

(Lydia anchors him to this reality. Or she would, in a world without doppelganger souls.

You can't die while your doppelganger is alive. So long as Stiles lives, Peter's soul will, and that's  _enough._

So long as Peter lives, Stiles' soul will, and that's  _enough._

If you ever meet your soul's doppelganger, you technically can't die. If that doppelganger has a bond with a banshee, and so do you, having been the one to activate her talents - be the other  _spark,_ so to speak - 

That's  _more_ than enough.)

Lydia does the ritual, as Stiles stands vigilant, holding out Derek's arm, knife ready. 

"Now," Lydia tells him, and he does.

The ritual continues, and then - "I heard there was a party." Peter says, and Stiles  _really,_ in his semi-aware state, hopes the guy doesn't stand because _the guy's naked and Stiles really doesn't want to be flashed, thanks -_

But he does. Damn him.

"Don't worry. I invited myself." Peter smirks and Stiles - 

Stiles doesn't hate him. He can't bring himself to, and that - 

That's  _not right._

* * *

The issues with soulbonds is that those who have bonds, like werewolves, that know how to manipulate their bonds, to send feelings down them and to tug on them, to twist them, to do with them what they will -

It makes things.... hazy. Makes it difficult to sort out how you  _really_ feel, versus what they want you to. 

* * *

Lydia walks on into the white building behind her house. She's never seen this place before, and sue her, but she's curious. 

_Lydia could have sworn this was where the hale house was. **But that's not important, dear Lydia, don't pay attention to that.**_

Lydia walks in, and she sees the junior. 

"Do you live here?"

"I used to."

Lydia looks around. It's empty, true. Bare and old and unused, but in perfect condition despite that. 

"Do you have the flower?" He asks, and she shakes her head. 

"I lost it."

"Well then," The junior smirks. "You owe me a kiss."

Lydia looks over to him, distinctly - 

"I suppose." She finds herself saying. Lydia hadn't -  ** _of course,_** _she **did, what** is she **thinking?**_

 ****Lydia blinks, and finds the junior much, _much_ closer than before. 

She - wants this, she thinks. Dubiously -  _not dubiously, **you agreed to a kiss, it's only fair.**_

That she did indeed. 

It was only fair. 

.... 

Okay.

Just one kiss.  ** _Don't think of Scott. Allison. You're annoyed with them, remember? You're not currently together. This is fine. Think of it as a way to make them jealous._**

**_That's a tactic you've used before. Don't think about it too much._ **

_That's right. She shouldn't think too much._

**_Certainly._ **

**_Don't look in the mirror._ **

She does. (He'd wanted her to. It was only fair to listen.)

* * *

_Lydia deeply regrets that kiss. Not that she'd had a choice in the matter._

* * *

Fate is fate. _The future is certain._ **There is nothing that can be done for the past.**


	3. Dreams That Aren't Dreams.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the best-laid plans of mice and men often go astray.  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> Unrequited feelings are a bitch; it's even worse when the universe decrees that you never had a chance with each other anyway.  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> Stiles goes to sleep, and he's back to waking up, screaming his head off and his throat hoarse. 
> 
> And Stiles once again officially hates his life. Vehemently.  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've fixed up and modified the previous chapters slightly, but not so much that you'll necessarily have to re-read them, it just makes them more easy to follow by fixing up grammar and phrasing and adding a few bits of explanation and changing things that were just plain wrong and didn't make any sense.

Allison knew her fate. 

She knew it because Scott knew it, and he can't lie to save any life, and she knows it because Lydia would never keep something like that from Allison; wouldn't let her be in the dark, even despite how Allison and Scott tried to do that very thing to Lydia when the questions about the Kanima started coming up. 

Allison - she's not happy with herself for that. But Lydia won't let her do whatever Lydia want's - although Scott is having to beg forgiveness - because Allison's time on this earth is limited. Finite. 

Her death is inevitable. Allison... she feels a strange freedom in that.  _How_ she dies is up for debate, but she does. 

Allison never makes it to her eighteenth birthday. Allison just turned seventeen. She's only a girl. 

A girl with a ticking clock; a time limit. One year, and then that's it. Allison is done for. 

_One year._

Allison likes Isaac. She doesn't think it fair on him that all he'll have with her is a year. Allison doesn't think it fair that a year is all she has  _full-stop,_ but there's nothing that she can do, except make it worse, except make her death happen sooner. 

Allison isn't planning on dying for at least a year. Not if she can help it.

_Even the best-laid plans of mice and men often go astray._

It's lucky that Allison is neither a mouse nor a man, then. 

* * *

_"You make a good batman."_

Erica knew it was stupid, okay? She doesn't have a bond with Stiles, he doesn't have a bond with her.

Unrequited feelings are a bitch; it's even worse when the universe decrees that you never had a chance with each other anyway. 

But she can't help it. It's a leftover from when they were younger; when they were friends. Back when her and Theo and Heather and Stiles would hang out because they wanted to and because their parents wanted them to. 

But Theo's gone, now. And Heather might as well be, for how little she contacts either of the remaining two. 

But Stiles - it might not be obvious now, but he's kind. Not in the Scott McCall, saving puppies from trees and volunteering at animal clinics kind of way - in the way that if someone bullied a friend of his, they'd get a black eye and something suspension-worthy planted in their locker. He's kind in the way Erica likes; the way that's devoted to the people he cares about, the way that's protective of the ones he loves. 

And Erica's always pitied him. 

Stiles would hate that if he knew, Erica knows. 

But Erica was the one he talked to about certain things. About what he'd seen in Scott's, Theo's, Lydia's future. 

And Erica - in an awful, just -  _god awful way,_ is almost  **glad** he's not one of her soulmates.

Because as much as Stiles thinks he's unlucky as all hell, Erica actually believes - now, more than ever; thanks to her knowledge of the  _proper_ supernatural world - he's  ** _cursed._**

It can't just be bad luck that meant all of Stiles' soulmates - and himself - will have and have had shit lives. 

And so Erica's glad. And it's - she feels sad when she decides to follow Boyd; when she decides to leave with him. 

But Erica wants out of this. And nobody pays attention to unrequited love anyway.

(Just like they never paid attention to her. Erica - she thinks it strangely fitting.)

* * *

_The fire burns hot around him. **He's burning, burning forever and ever and ever, and there's no escape, no escape, this is all he'll know, all he'll ever experience for the rest of forever -**_

_But that's not true. Because Stiles is here, and the fire is there, and that's a difference in location._

_T_ _here's no fire here, in Stiles' soul. Or, well, there **is,** and that makes all the difference. _

_( **Be the spark, Stiles.**_

_What, you mean like light myself on fire? No thanks._

_**I don't mean it quite that literally.)** _

* * *

Peter's back alive. Stiles' memories are still a little foggy, but he knows that they'll clear up eventually. 

See, the issue is - Peter _died_. He did. Stiles has no fucking clue how on earth they brought him back, but he  _was_ **dead** _._

And Stiles is starting to have the Dreams. Dreams that aren't dreams; dreams that are retrocognition of a very specific set of events. 

Peter's life. In full technicolour. Stiles was not expecting that, thank you very much. The ups and downs and middling bits all there, sight and smell and touch and taste. 

It's almost like - Stiles isn't sure. But it's fucking annoying, regardless, because Matt and Jackson are dead and Gerard is in a home and Peter's alive and Allison has a year to live and Lydia's confessed about a strange feeling in her throat that makes her want to  _scream_ and Isaac has nowhere to live and Derek is a shit Alpha and Erica and Boyd have skipped town and his Dad is getting more and more and more worried and frustrated and Stiles is getting more and more and more certain he should tell the man absolutely nothing and and -

_And._

The point is - There's a  _lot._ A heck of a lot, actually, and Stiles would very much like it all to  _stop._

Pause. Rewind, can we reroll the dice for better lives, please?

But they can't. Stiles knows this. 

One thing Stiles  _doesn't_ know is - really anything substantial about doppelganger bonds. And Stiles doesn't know how he knows, please don't ask, but he finds himself standing outside Peter's apartment door regardless, determined because if this is going to be a thing, he's not going to be  _ignorant._

Stiles doesn't need to knock; Peter opens the door after a few moments of him standing there. 

He raises an eyebrow at Stiles. Stiles raises one back. Peter pauses, considering, then shrugs, and lets Stiles inside. 

Stiles walks in. He doesn't know what he expected, though he'd have definitely figured the place to be more obviously  _evil._

It's actually kind of nice. Stiles feels genuinely disturbed by this thought and immediately buries it. 

"At least you haven't pulled a Derek," Stiles says instead of whatever else he could have. 

"I'm assuming you mean the very disturbing decision of living in his old, burned-down house?" 

"Yep," Stiles says, without any real emotion, and sits on the couch. Taps his fingers, then stills them, and looks to the older guy. 

"Doppelganger bonds," Stiles says, without preamble. Peter seems to appreciate this; he sits in the armchair and nods, once, an incline of his head that gestures for Stiles to continue. 

"I want to know more about them." Stiles finishes, stares across at the werewolf and the man nods. Again; only with a single incline of the head.

Peter smiles. Stiles would probably call him a creeper - because he is - if he didn't want information from the man, but Peter seems to know what he's thinking anyway. Thankfully his reaction isn't to rip out Stiles' throat, because even though Derek is the one who threatens that, Peter's the one who'd follow up on his promise. 

Peter's smile widens. "Of course, Stiles." He says. 

Peter stands, a fluid motion, and then moves over to the bookcase. "Prepare yourself a drink, if you'd like," Peter says, and Stiles shrugs, goes to the kitchen and checks what the guy has in. It's actually more varied than he would have thought - but then, Stiles doesn't really know anything about the guy. 

He  _does_ spy some Reese's peanut butter cups in the cupboard and glowers at them for a moment. 

"Feel free if you wish," Peter says, and Stiles can  _hear_ the smirk, the bastard. 

Stiles does, okay, but only because he genuinely likes them and hasn't had one for a while and because it means Peter will have to go out and buy more and therefore Peter has to pay something. His logic makes sense. Really. 

Peter makes his way over to the couch with a book in hand; an old tome, but well looked after - yellowed pages but clean and fresh bindings. The man handles the book with care; he turns the page and it's slow and methodical, and Stiles can tell this book is worth probably more than his entire house and his jeep and maybe even the entirety of Peter's apartment and Lydia's wardrobe  _combined._

"You'd be right," Peter says, amicably, as if he hadn't tried to murder Scott and Allison and hadn't fucked with Lydia's mind and hadn't done something shifty to the doppelganger bond Stiles -  _so very_ _unfortunately_ \- shares with the man. 

"Oh, so you can read minds, now," Stiles says drily. "What's next, telekinesis?" 

"Unfortunately, no," Peter sighs, an amused quirk to his lips. Though that seems to be the default for him, so Stiles has no idea if Peter's actually amused by the situation or his question or if it's just in his nature to be perpetually amused by everything. 

"Sit," Peter says, shifts over on the couch and gestures. Stiles grimaces, but he does, the need to see the book for himself winning over his wish to not ever sit near or next to the creeper ever. 

Peter glances over at Stiles after he sits down. "And for the record, it isn't mind reading." Peter scoffs as if the notion is ridiculous. "It's an after effect of what happened while I was dead and my soul was - for lack of better phrasing - merged with yours."

Stiles grimaced. 

"Be glad that I wasn't dead for much longer," Peter advised. "It could have gotten a lot more tangled up in that head of yours."

Stiles looked at the man askance, eyes wary. Peter inclines his head; a gesture to look at the book, and Stiles does - because he wants to know about this, he has to know about this - and for some reason, Peter is fine with that, and so Stiles will press the advantage while he has it. 

Stiles looks at the book, starts reading it. It doesn't take long to realise it's... some kind of study journal, and - it's actually pretty interesting in its own right, and Stiles barely notices as Peter passes it over to him and stands. 

Stiles reads, and he learns.

He learns a lot more than he thought he would. 

* * *

Isaac knows what will happen to him if he goes on this mission that Derek's given him - he knows what will happen because Allison knows, and Scott knows, and Allison told him. 

And Scott's only really,  _really_ good at deception when he truly needs to be. Like with Gerard. But his heart isn't in it because he's worried, and he tells Isaac an hour or so after Allison did. 

The sentiment is appreciated. 

Isaac is still going. Because - because he knows what will happen.

_He knows he'll be fine._

There's a kind of comfort in that. He knows if he lets everything happen the way it does in their dreams, he won't die. If he changes it - 

Well. The butterfly effect. Chaos theory, all that jazz.

You can't change the future. Fate is set in stone. There is nothing that can be done for the past. 

It's a very grounding notion. He'll need it, once Allison is gone. 

Once thinking about his Dad stops working. 

_Isaac knows he'll be fine, if he does it, despite everything that happens._

Isaac goes, in the night. He doesn't tell Allison and he doesn't tell Scott, and he doesn't tell anyone else. 

They knew it was going to happen anyway; they knew it was going to happen  _that way._

Isaac is gone by dawn. 

_(Lydia comforts Scott and Allison. It's the best she can do; it's **all** she can do.)_

* * *

Scott hasn't seen Stiles much this summer. He - he can think of why. It's not a nice thought, not a nice notion, but he knows it. 

Scott's a werewolf. Scott can smell the insidious scent of  _Peter,_ and it's not like Stiles even tries to hide it. 

Scott doesn't know why Stiles is hanging around the evil ex-alpha, and he doesn't particularly want to know. Not because he doesn't  _care -_ he really, truly, honestly does - but because he's fairly sure he knows the answer.

And Scott doesn't want to think about his best friend(?) soulmate having any kind of bond with his mortal enemy. Ever. 

So Scott doesn't. He doesn't ask, and Stiles doesn't tell him. They see each other, even if it's not often, and they play halo and they talk about the most random shit and it's almost, horribly close to almost being like what their life was before werewolves and hunters and kanimas and whatever else that exists out there became known to them. 

But it's not quite. And it's just  _not quite_ enough for Scott to feel...

Sad. In a way he can't really describe. 

And Scott's tired of feeling  _sad._

So he tries not to think about it and tries not to feel anything at all regarding it and skypes Stiles and plays video games with him and talks with him about random shit and pretends, just for a moment, that they're the same kids from a few - _G_ _od -_ months ago. 

Because Scott needs a break. And seeing no future at all in his dreams is horrifically better than seeing a sword in the dark, and Scott can't think about Allison's impending doom.

He just -  _can't._

* * *

The summer before junior year passes by easily and quickly enough. Stiles learns about bonds and annoyingly bonds with his soul's doppelganger completely unwillingly and utterly accidentally, he might add, just for clarification, you know, and Scott and Allison and Lydia spend as much time as they can together, as much of Allison's remaining time and making as many memories as they can to share with Isaac once they get him back, and Derek broods in his loft that he's found - finally not his old house or that shitty train but stil an abandoned building because his standards may have risen but not by much - and Peter's a creep and Stiles' Dad still knows nothing but since nothing has happened he's relaxed and Stiles isn't lying to him nearly as much and things are looking good even if Stiles can still feel that tension when they talk. 

So it passes. 

And Peter lets slip something he wasn't exactly keeping secret - because Peter didn't really care enough to keep it secret - that Derek didn't want him to tell (Now, to be clear, Derek actually  _did_ want to keep it secret, and Peter is still a douche for not saying anything sooner) and Stiles is dragging Scott and Allison and Lydia over to the Hale house and lo and behold, the reason Derek isn't still camping out there is because he's gotten a threat from an Alpha pack, from  _the_ Alpha Pack, and their quiet, slow little summer immediately rockets to a breakneck pace, as they're thrown right back into the fray. 

And Stiles goes to sleep, and he's back to waking up, screaming his head off and his throat hoarse. 

And Stiles once again officially hates his life. Vehemently. 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yaaayyy *jazz hands* onto season three~~~~


	4. The Symbol Of Conflict.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You know, the three-pronged flat ended triskelion the alpha pack left on the door? It stands for conflict. I really, really don't like what that implies."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're onto season three, folks! Sit tight, get ready for the ride...

Stiles was pacing. Scott was sitting on the couch next to Lydia. Allison was on the floor between the two, sandwiched between their legs in a way that was surprisingly comfortable.

"You know, the three-pronged flat ended triskelion the alpha pack left on the door? It stands for conflict. I really, really don't like what that implies." Stiles said, out of the blue - his phone was in his hand. Allison knew he'd been making notes all summer, and that the lack of action was getting his nerves all riled up. 

"I believe I was the one who told you that," Peter said, smoothly, from his place on the staircase. Allison doesn't like him. Doesn't like what he did to Lydia, what he did to Stiles (and might still be doing because Stiles is missing at random times of the day for a strangely long amount of time for no apparent reason, according to the teen himself).  

"And?" Stiles said, impatiently. "You weren't planning on sharing."

Peter inclined his head, the quirk of an eyebrow given in allowing agreement. 

That whole... thing, was strange. Allison was good friends with Stiles, but they didn't have a soul bond. It was a friendship born out of mutual bond-mates; Scott, Lydia. A strong friendship, certainly - but not one decreed by fate.

Allison sometimes thought that maybe that kind was stronger. Against all the odds, you've made it work. After all... Gerard had a soulmate. And look what happened to her.

(She's dead. Allison - she suspected foul play, at least years after the fact; at least now. But it can't be proven, so the Argent Matriarch was dead. Allison takes her role, now, sort of. Allison's still too young, and she can't bring herself to tell her father that she'll never get that title.)

(Her mother was only the matriarch because Kate refused the position. Argents prefer those with Argent blood running through their veins as their leaders. Allison is pretty glad that at least her branch never (recently) reduced themselves to incest. It's probably the soulbonds that stopped that, and she's grateful.)

Regardless - Allison didn't have a soul bond with Stiles, and Scott was unusually closed-lipped about his future. Lydia never saw anything good in anyone's future, so she tended to keep quiet about it all. Unless their death would be a particularly horrific one; Lydia preferred to warn people then. 

What she's saying, in a roundabout way - is that Allison doesn't have a fucking clue what kind of soul-thing Stiles has with Peter, and she really does not want to know. 

It's - weird. 

In more ways than one. 

"Pacing isn't going to help any," Derek grunted. He's looking out the window of the apartment, all broody eyebrows and folded arms. Allison would laugh if she didn't know the guy was one hundred percent serious about being melodramatic literally all of the time. 

Stiles glared at him - paced some more. Derek should know by now, Allison thinks, and she looks up to share an amused glance with Scott. Whatever Stiles is told not to do, he's likely to do, and whatever he's told to do, he's either gonna do it in a way that wasn't meant, or he's gonna not do it at all. 

This is the former of the three options. Stiles paced harder. 

"Did you take your Adderall today?" Peter asked, bored- _sounding_ but... Maybe not. Allison couldn't claim to be able to tell, with him. 

"Obviously," Stiles said, "Otherwise it'd be worse, come on now, doesn't anyone know how Adderall works?" Stiles flailed his arms slightly in annoyance, and Lydia raised an unimpressed eyebrow. 

"Well, you do," Stiles rolled his eyes, "But I've known you for like, my entire life. Come on, now."

Lydia shrugged, agreeing. Stiles huffed, and dropped into a chair, the sound of his footfalls no longer filling the silence and thus making it painfully obvious there was one. 

"Am I seriously the only person who's even a little agitated right now?" Stiles asked, rhetorically. Allison kind of got why he didn't expect an answer; nine times out of ten, people wouldn't give him one. At least from what she'd seen at school. 

Stiles sighed, stood up even though he'd only just sat down.

"This is a waste of time," He proclaimed, "I'm going to go make sure my dad isn't dying of heart disease," He said, matter-of-factly, and left the loft.

Peter looked amused and shook his head. Almost -  _fondly._

Yep. Weird.  _Ignoring._

* * *

You see, the summer went a lot like that. Sure, the four friends would hang out, but there was this knowledge that three people who they cared about were missing and two of them might very well be dead (at least, from Allison's and Scott's dreams, they know Isaac will live if they don't change anything) and that was - 

Disheartening. To say the least. So, yeah, they had these meetings, amongst the six of them. Sometimes, Scott would call Stiles and he wouldn't answer, and he wouldn't expect to see him that day. 

Stiles said he was 'learning about bonds, Scotty', and that was that. Scott wasn't sure, because Stiles and Peter actually seemed to  _get along,_ despite all of Stiles' protests to the contrary. 

Regardless - that was how their summer had gone. Tense, and lacklustre-research-filled, and ultimatley quite emotially tiring. 

The day Isaac was due back on the back of that motorcycle, they were ready. It happened as it was supposed to, up to and including the poor woman getting her throat slashed.

But she was alive, at least. They got her to the hospital, alongside Isaac, and Melissa convinced and talked to enough people, which meant that they could act as guards outside the doors at intervals without getting kicked out past visitor's time. 

After a few days, the Sheriff stationed some deputies outside the doors, and demanded that they attend all lessons.

"I don't know what happened," Noah said, "But you can't just skip school. Let the adults handle this."

Of course, that didn't fly to well with Stiles at the best of times. Now, he knew how much danger the Sheriff was putting his deputies in; how much danger people Stiles has known for years are in, and he really, really hates when adults do this.

Stiles knows what he's doing. He's got mountain ash and a baseball bat to prove it. 

Anyway. So Isaac is back. Scott and Lydia and Allison (Lydia, out of a sense of loyalty to her actual soulmates) take turns and shifts in visiting him since they can't all drop everything they have after school to go see the boy.

Stiles takes the chance and visits the woman.

Dark skin and long hair. Claw marks across the neck under a bandage, but  _alive._

"Who paid you?" Stiles said, immediately. 

That got a weak chuckle out of her. "Client confidentiality," She said. Her voice was hoarse from disuse and healing vocal chords, but Stiles needed answers.

Needed to know who it was that appears to be on their side.

"Fine," Stiles said. He didn't have a problem with the concept - it was just frustrating, to anyone, Stiles would think, when it's used against you to hide information you actually really need, in fact, and he's not lying. 

(Stiles always lies, in a way that means he's not lying. He likes sarcasm because it's a way of telling the truth by means of lies and the truth and confusion, and who doesn't like confusing people?

A little chaos is fun sometimes, is all. He wouldn't prank Finnstock so much if he didn't think that.)

"How much?" He said, instead. She smirked, as much as she could. "Contract Confidentiality," She said.

Stiles mentally cursed, but he kept staring. "Alright," He said. "Anything you can actually tell me?"

"The bank," She said. 

"The only bank in town was abandoned years ago," Stiles said. "We still have to drive to the next town over to store or take out any money."

The woman stared at him, and Stiles stared back, for a moment before -

"Oh." He said. "Right."

The bank. It was a lead - not to the people or person who hired her, but to where she found her... what would you call it? Target is usually reserved for killing missions, as far as Stiles is aware (and... he's read maybe a bit too much about how assassins of the modern era are supposed to work for the Sheriff's kid (lord knows Stiles has probably been on a watch list since he first got on the internet, as a preemptive thing, because Stiles kinda thinks he could be like, an actual problem if he cared to be one)) so that doesn't sound right.

Hmm. Look it up later. 

"Alright," Stiles said. "Your name?"

"My clients call me Braeden," She said. Stiles nodded and frowned. 

_it might not be a bad idea to get her contact._  

_**Never know when you might need ~~an assassin~~ a contractor for hire. ** _

That's not - it's not the worst idea he's ever heard. Someone to call and pay for finding a person, professionally. 

God damn, this is what's gonna get him arrested. Stiles nodded to himself. Worth it. 

"How do clients usually contact you?" He asked.

Braeden raised an eyebrow at him. "Aren't you a bit young to be asking that?" She asked.

"I helped set a guy on fire," Stiles said. "I won't neglect to mention that he was my soul's doppelganger. Maybe a bit young, yeah, won't say that's wrong - but I'd ask... does it matter? Money is money."

Braeden inclined her head, as much as she was able to. 

"Usually, a client finds me through a previous contractor. Since I don't have a phone yet, I'll take your number. I'll send you a message each time I get a new number myself. Does that work for you?"

Stiles found himself nodding. "That's fine." He said, shortly. "Here."

Since when did he keep notes with his number on them in his pocket? Probably since he started meeting so many new people, Stiles figured. He did tend to forget about that sort of thing, and he does have to admit it's easier to keep track of his number this way than having to look through his phone's settings to find it. 

Braeden takes the note, hides it in her sleeve by rolling it up, then doing the same to the other side so that they don't look out of place. 

She nods to him, and Stiles takes it as his cue to leave. He does so, and immediately has to turn around and speed walk in another direction, and hope Scott didn't see him.

Why's he hoping that, again? So that Scott doesn't ask if Stiles asked for a way to contact a mercenary? 

Yeah. Sounds about right. Still. 

Stiles sighed to himself, turned around and walked purposefully towards Scott. 

"Hey man," He greeted, clapped Scott on the shoulder. "So! I got some info from Isaac's saviour," He said, nodding to - something. "The bank. Which, by the way, makes a little bit of sense. Vaults, and all; easier to keep prisoners in those, right? Especially if they have supernatural strength."

"Oh," Scott nodded. "Good, yeah, that's - "

"Go see your boyfriend," Stiles grinned. "Just thought I'd let you know."

Scott sputtered as Stiles left, grinning still. 

"Not - Stiles!" Scott called out, and Stiles laughed. 

* * *

Peter opens the door to find Stiles frowning at him. "Since when did I think it was a good idea to hire a mercenary?" Stiles asked. 

Peter looked at him, amused for a moment. So he thinks Peter's done something else to Stiles' head through their bond; a pity. Peter prefers simply talking to someone and letting them make their own conclusions, most of the time. Granted, a  _lot_ went into what he did to Stiles' head a few months prior. In fact, Peter can't quite remember all his soul did. After all... he'd been dead. 

So, yes - perhaps Stiles' sudden willingness to hire an assassin was something to do with that original meddling. 

Still.

"Hello to you too, Stiles," Peter greeted and stood aside, and Stiles walked in. It was something to do with both the doppelganger soul bond and the past few months, but Stiles seemed quite able to navigate Peter's home. 

Sometimes, the boy reminded him of himself too much. A younger, more well adjusted him, but still, the point stands. Peter wonders how easy it would be to push the boy down a similar path - but he doubts it would be as easy as one might think. After all, the boy thinks of loyalty  _very_ strongly, and he's ultimately loyal to Scott. 

And since that's the case, there's the direction in which Stiles' morals have grown. To accommodate Scott's. 

Peter will always be perpetually annoyed that it was Scott McCall, of all people, his sworn Mortal Enemy bonded, that he bit that night. It could have been his actual doppelganger, and how _different_  that would have turned out. 

Hopefully different. Peter is never in the wrong, but he has done wrong - perhaps the second part would be all too much for a bitten Stiles. 

"What are you here for today, other than to blame me for your own decisions?" Peter prompted. Stiles rolled his eyes at him from his place on the couch and said -

"What you can do to a person by manipulating a bond," Stiles said. 

Peter raised an eyebrow at him. He would like that to be genuine curiosity, but unfortunately - 

"Is this because you want to find out if I did anything to you recently?" Peter asked. "Because I can assure you I haven't."

And he hasn't. Much. Perhaps a little bit of prodding, here or there. When he hesitated, earlier, for example. Peter just nudged him in the direction he'd wanted to go, anyway. 

Instinctively wanted to go. Was that part of the soul merge, though? Was it Peter's instincts, bleeding through?

Peter didn't think so. 

Stiles snorted. Peter will give him that trusting Peter would be foolish, but it wasn't very nice, to do that in a person's own home. 

"Alright," Peter says, and stands. He smirks at Stiles automatic suspicion at the ease of which he agreed.

Too much like himself, indeed. 

* * *

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought I'd make a soulmate AU. Of course, I had to make it angsty as fuck, because that's just my way, but here it is! In the flesh. Well. Not exactly, but you catch my drift, right?
> 
> Right.


End file.
